Monster's Offspring
by ShineDarkInLight
Summary: The old Empire has fallen. The new Empire has risen, the Riders are on their path to returning. Then a shock racks the fragile system, and all is thrown in fear.
1. Introduction

Sometimes, monsters find their way into the trust of a woman, and exploit her weaknesses. Sometimes, these monsters have children, and then those children have children. The seeds of darkness remain dormant, waiting for the right soil in which to grow.

* * *

Prior to his fall, the Dark King bedded a maid. It was a calculated move: he wanted his bloodline to continue. Galbatorix wanted an heir, regardless of what would happen to his kingdom. His heir, in his mind, would one day rise to greatness, and regain whatever he may lose.

When the Warden began marching to Urû'baen, and when the elves took Gil'ead, Galbatorix send the maid that he had created his heir with to run and hide. She did so, stealing away in the dark of the night. She hid her son, and her son's daughter, reminding each growing child of who their ancestor was: a mighty king, with all the world at his feet. Despite their ancestor's wealth, the descendants lived poorly. When Morena, mother to Galbatorix's first and only child, fled, she took next to nothing with her. She took only a pair of dresses, to be passed down.

Time passed, and things changed. Within fifty years, the elves and dwarves united under the joint rule of Queen Arya and King Orik. The humans began to worry, feeling insecure in their own weakness. Soon, though, the elves and dwarves extended their friendships to Nasuada and her subjects, who accepted. The three races were finally united under one flag, with peace reigning. The cities destroyed during the war were rebuilt, and Urû'baen regained it's true name: Ilirea. Trade flourished, and the Black Hand was eventually eradicated.

Another 50 years slowly passed, witnessing the birth of yet more of Galbatorix's descendants, and ushering in a whole new shock:

The return of Eragon Shadeslayer.

Or rather, his dragon, Saphira. As she later explained, Eragon had remained behind to take care of the place the eggs, and to keep watch over the place that the two had found. _Across the Hadarac lies the place_, Saphira had reported when she arrived. _I will take the strongest magicians with me, so we may build the place where future dragons and their Riders may train..__  
_

Arya provided the magicians, and Saphira once again returned to the far side of the desert.

Years passed... Galbatorix's descendant grew... Saphira once again returned, this time with other dragons in tow.

_Beware, injustice and crime, for the Riders will rise again_, was their message. The dragons carried eggs, and with their advice, the circulation of eggs among the cities began again.

Here begins our story.


	2. Chapter 1

Archayne squinted at the notice on the post, for a moment forgetting the pails of water in her hands. "Dragon Eggs! Arriving the Second of March!" the poster proclaimed, accompanied by a sketch of several eggs. Archayne's lips stretched into a grin. She was 19, finally old enough to stand in the line, waiting to see if a dragon would choose her! She smirked faintly, remembering the stories her mother would tell her of her ancestor, the great Dragon King Galbatorix. _I could be just like him,_ she mused.

A rock to her back startled her out of her reverie, making her squeak in surprise. She spun around to see one of the town boys her age, Richard, smirking at her. "Hey, Chainy," he called, referring to her by the nickname he had given her.

Archayne sighed, turning away. _I should tell Mama about that poster… Will she let me go?_

" Oi!" he yelled behind her. "I'm talkin' to ya, Peabrain!"

She paused, sarcastically replying, "I had no idea."

Richard, for once, caught onto the sarcasm, and replied to it with another rock to her back. "Where ya going?"

"Somewhere." Archayne never gave them straight answers. Always, they were vague. No one ever could get anything out of her. Not her parents' identities, not where she was from, not even where she lived. She always managed to sneak away at just the right moment.

"That ain' helpful," Richard's goon, Marcus, whined.

"I'm not here to be helpful," she answered serenely before disappearing into the crowd on the main street.

With the boys behind her, Archayne weaved several circles through the streets, then snuck down several lanes and found herself at her small home. She nudged the door open with her hip and called out, "Mother, I brought the water!"

The haggard old woman turned from the fireplace, where a cauldron full of soup hung boiling. "Oh good, put those over there," she replied, motioning to a shelf beside the fireplace.

"I saw a notice in town today," the girl continued, "They're bringing the eggs about tomorrow. I should have seen the notices earlier since they're all over the place but, "she paused, a self-conscious smile on her lips, "You know me."

Ingrid nodded, shuffling over to pat the girl's cheek. "At least you saw it today," she told the girl and returned to the cauldron. "Perhaps, we'll dress you up for tomorrow. Braid your hair. Just so you look presentable."

Archayne pouted, resting a hand on her hip. "And I'm not already presentable?"

The old woman turned and gave her a frank look, her hands resting on her hips, the very image of a scolding mother. "You're covered in dirt, you stink and your hair is all tangles!"

"So?"

"So, we want you to look at least a small bit elegant tomorrow!" the old woman retorted.

Archayne knew she wouldn't win this argument. With a resigned sigh, she softly asked, "What shall I do first?"

"Why don't you go down to the river?" the woman suggested. "You know the spot I used to take you to. Take a bath, seeing as we don't have enough water here at the moment, and we'll do the rest when you return!"

"Can I eat first?" the girl whined. "I'm hungry!"

The old woman nodded, motioning to the chipping wooden table that stood in the middle of the kitchen. "Sit down, then," she ordered and shuffled to a cupboard, retrieving a bowl, and then grabbed a spoon. She poured soup into the bowl, filling it almost to the brim, and set it down on the table. Archayne already sat waiting. The girl scarfed her food down and packed the dirty dishes into a leather bag. She then quickly retrieved a fresh set of clothing and a towel from her room, as well as a bar of soap, a comb and a scrub. After planting a gentle kiss on her mother's cheek, she left the little house, heading straight for the river that was less than a mile away.

Archayne couldn't help but grin at the river as she approached it. The cheerful gurgle of the water over stones always put her in the good mood. She skipped towards the grove where trees hid a section of the river, where she would be hidden from prying eyes. Once hidden within the foliage, she quickly washed the dishes, and the bag, and stripped down. She folded the dirty clothing and placed it within the bag. With that done, she slipped into the cold water and began to clean her body, first covering herself with suds, then scrubbing herself, finishing off with a good rinse. Once she deemed herself clean, she slipped out, then dried and dressed herself. She combed every knot out of her hair and lazily braided it, rolling it up into a bun at the back of her head. With her washing done, she slipped out of the grove and headed home.

Archayne's mother greeted her with an excited grin as the girl stepped into the door. "I found some things I salvaged years ago!" she confided in the girl excitedly.

The girl set her bags down raised an eyebrow at Ingrid, wondering what she could possibly have carried all this time. "Show me?"

The old woman waved the girl into her bedroom, and Archayne followed inside. On the bed lay a pair of short, simple leather boots and an elegant purple dress. The girl's eyes widened at the intricate design that curled over the cloth- swooping dragons and vines done in golden thread. "Oh, Mother! It's lovely!" she exclaimed.

"Calm yourself, deary," the older woman replied, patting Archayne on the shoulder. "We still have to get you into it!"

Archayne only groaned in response. _Clothing! Why can't everyone just live without it? _


	3. Chapter 2

Archayne stood in the long line of boys and girls her age, her hands clasped before her. Her blonde hair was braided down her back. Ingrid had not lost her touch yet! The purple dress hugged her upper body, and flowed loosely around her legs, the golden thread shimmering in the sunlight, bringing out the darker violet of her eyes. She leaned to the side to see the progress of the eggs, attempting to gauge how much longer she would have to wait. So far, no one had been chosen by the dragons. Archayne, though, was hopeful. She had woken up that morning feeling lucky, feeling unusually good.

The eggs progressed slowly through the line of people. After each child touched the egg, it was allotted an hour to decide whether to hatch or not. She wanted to sit down, but she knew that if she came to her mother with a single stain on the dress, she would receive a tough boxing of the years. _"Oh for the love of all the gods above, how hard is it to not get all muddy?" _Archayne could just hear Ingrid scolding her as she led the girl towards the bathroom, all the while trying to pat the stain out. The image brought a smile to the blonde's lips. The pair weren't well-off or rich, but they were happy. And if everything worked out the way Archayne hoped, her mother would get a chance to live the rest of her life comfortably.

A shadow passed over her face. Ingrid had been complaining a lot lately about her body hurting, and she was looking unusually tired. Archayne feared that she didn't have that much time left, especially since the woman had begun eating less and less. Perhaps those were the effects of the last winter, which was colder than usual. She shivered, despite the warm air, at the memory of the cold days the two spent huddling around the fire for warmth. The girl gritted her teeth, straightening her spine. No matter what, she would find a way to help her mother.

The sun was beginning to set. Many of the tired children now sprawled on the ground, clutching blankets to ward off the coolness of the approaching night's air. One lone figure stood near the front of the line, her spine straight as a stick, a calm expression on her face, her violet eyes focused on some point in the distance. Finally, one of the egg carriers stepped in front of her. "Your name and age?" the dwarf asked gruffly, stretching out a purple dragon egg so dark it was almost black.

"Archayne," the thin girl replied, her eyes flitting up from the egg to look at the dwarf, searching for a sign of recognition. "…Ingrid's Daughter. 19 years of age"

The dwarf nodded towards the egg, the name holding no significance to him, or any of the other bystanders. Archayne breathed a sigh of relief in her mind and stretched her hand out to touch the egg with pent up breath.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Then thirty. Archayne exhaled sharply in disappointment and lowered her head. She eyed the ground, knowing she still had an hour to wait for the dragon's decision. In the meantime, the elven egg carrier held out the second egg. Archayne gently tapped it with her finger, now expecting nothing. And as she expected, nothing happened.

She took a small step back, her vibrant eyes focused hopefully on the violet egg, her heart pounding faster as the minutes ticked by.

It was almost time up when it finally happened- a crack resounded through the air. The girl gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks as she watched with bated breath: more cracks were appearing, accompanied by soft growls and huffs. A chip of the cracked egg went flying, dislodged by the dragon's movements, and hit Archayne's hand. She didn't move, mesmerized by the egg.

"I would take the egg…. Before the dragon touches him," the human commented suddenly, jerking her thumb towards the dwarf.

Archayne's widened in surprise, and she nodded quickly. She reached for the egg, and the dwarf easily slipped the still-struggling dragon and its egg into her hands. Smoke rose from the egg, and finally the protective walls fell away, tumbling to the ground. The purple dragon lifted its head, its violently purple eyes surveying the onlookers. It lifted its paw and looked sharply at the hands supporting it. Its gaze followed the hands to the arms, and the arms to the head. It tilted its head curiously at Archayne, before lowering its paw to touch the girl's bare hand.

White-hot pain sliced through Archayne's body, causing her fall to her knees with a sharp cry. She gritted her teeth, frozen in place by the pain. Finally, it began to ebb. She panted, her eyes opening to look at the dragon, which was innocently nosing about the egg fragments. Upon the girl's slight shift, the dragon's attention snapped to her. Archayne bit her lip, returning the dragon's intense gaze.

The dragon chirped and scuttled up the girl's arm, deciding to rest on her shoulder instead. It nosed her cheek and settled there, returning its attention to the crowd that had assembled around the previously small group.

Suddenly self-conscious, Archayne turned her head to look around: the eyes of her old neighbors were on her, watching her every move. Slowly, she stood, unsure of what to say, or ever do. Her wide eyes slid over the members of the crowd, stopping at the elf, who was looking at her expectantly.

A sudden feeling flashed through her-biting hunger. She winced, her hand patting her stomach. Archayne guessed that this was the rumored mental link between a Rider and dragon. Coughing, she motioned to the dragon. "Someone's hungry…"

The crowd laughed, and one of the adults walked over to her with a jovial expression. "Come along then," he told her, "let's feed that beast of yours!" He seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place his face.

Archayne coughed, glancing at her dragon as it hissed at the word "best." "Somehow," the girl replied, "I don't think it likes being called a beast…"

The man shrugged and patted her unoccupied shoulder. "Irrelevant! Come now, let's eat!" _That's who he is!_ Archayne suddenly realized as she followed him. _He owns that tavern… what's it called… Zorack's Tavern!_ She smiled to herself, stealing a sidelong glance at the dragon. It blinked in reply. She felt something touch her mind, and her senses seemed to widen. She raised an eyebrow at the dragon. _You need a name, don't you?_ The dragon only tilted its head at her.

On the way to the tavern, Archayne slipped away from the little crowd that had gathered around her, and rushed to her home. "Mother?" she called as she entered the tiny building, blinking at the darkness within. "I have good news!"

Ingrid shuffled into the room, yawning. "I was napping- "she started, then blanched. "W-what is _that_!?" she squeaked, finger pointing to the creature perched on her daughter's shoulder.

Archayne straightened her back proudly. "This, is my dragon!" _whom I haven't named yet.._ the girl responded. Ingrid gasped, and a grin slowly spread over her face. The young girl laughed in response. "Come with me, Mother! There's a little party at Zorack's!" She held out her hand, grinning.

Ingrid nodded, allowing herself to be swept away with excitement, and took the girl's hand. Together, they made their way to the tavern near the center of the city.

The door closed with a pointed _bang_ behind Archayne and her mother. All eyes turned to them. Everyone recognized the girl for whom a dragon hatched and began to cheer. Mother and daughter merged into the crowd, surrounded by cheerful people. Most recognized Archayne as the quiet girl that never reacted to pestering, and who was generally kind, even though she didn't like to answer personal questions. The elf from earlier motioned her over, and she weaved through the crowd to sit across from him on one of the tall bar stools.

"Meet us tomorrow, at the hill beyond Western Gate," he told, barely loud enough for her to hear, "You will be taken to the Rider base to begin your training."

Archayne nodded. "Yes, sir."

The elf nodded, and turned back to his two companions, who appeared disinclined to join in with the festivities. Archayne was content to watch the townspeople enjoying themselves from a quiet corner, to watch her mother dance for the first time in years with the town's men. Ingrid had retained her beauty over the years, and even now, when age was beginning to set it, she still had a pleasant appearance.

Archayne, though, did not dance, and instead remained in a quiet corner, playing with the dragon and feeding it bits of meat. _Tomorrow,_ she thought, _everything will change... _

/Author's note: sorry for any errors I make! I don't always catch everything upon rereading, so please do point them out!


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Inspiration had struck Archayne at midnight, when her eyes were drooping shut from exhaustion.

_You need a name, _she thought to herself as she lay on the bed, her eyes on the dragon.

An air of sarcasm seemed to emanate from the dragon as it rolled its eyes. It hadn't been too personable, and didn't communicate too much with its rider.

Archayne racked her brains. She considered naming him Shruikan, but immediately discarded the idea. Not only would it immediately raise question, but the violet dragon also edged nearer to smack his tail against her cheekcrossly. _Wait... I just thought of it… as a he…_ she paused, then narrowed her eyes at the dragon. _You're a boy dragon?_

The dragon lifted its tail in assent.

She bit her lip thoughtfully. _Zavon?_ She sent the thought across.

The dragon lifted its head in thought, and then shook its head.

Archayne suggested more, including Eridor, Ohen, and Vanilor. The dragon rejected all of them with a careless swish of his tail.

_What else? _She asked herself, sighing softly. Then the idea came to her… _Shenkuu?_ She asked, looking at the dragon with hope in her eyes.

The dragon lifted his head once more, warmth for once appearing in his eyes. _Yes,_ he replied. _Now sleep._ The corners of his mouth seemed to twitch upwards as he rested his head on his paws.

Archayne smiled cheerily. Finally, her dragon had a name! "Good night," she whispered to the small dragon.

A soft growl answered her, and she then drifted off to sleep.

It seemed like seconds later that something small and hard jabbed her cheek. She opened her drowsy eyes to see Shenkuu using his head as a battering ram against her face. "You'll bruise me," she groaned, turning over to her other side.

She squeaked as he poked her back with a claw. _Morning. It is time, _he responded calmly as he clambered onto her shoulder.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed as she leaped out of the small bed and began rushing around the tiny, cramped room to pack what few souvenir possessions she possessed. She packed the dress from the day before, the heavenly leather boots, and an old sketch of her and her mother. She slipped out of her nightgown, forgetting all about Shenkuu for the moment, and dressed in a simple, comfortable dress. She combed quickly through her hair and packed the brush. It was old, an heirloom that remained from when Morena fled from Urû'baen. Looking over the rucksack, she nodded to herself. _That's everything_, she told herself, and turned back to Shenkuu.

He was cowering in a corner, one of his wings covering his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him and asked aloud, "Are you alright?"

He responded with an image of her bare body.

Archayne flushed with mortification, covering her cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Strange noises made her peek through her fingers. Shenkuu lay curled up where he had been before, his wings folded. His violet eyes shined with amusement, and a weird yuck-yuck was coming from his opened jaws, the corners of his lips drawn backward, his head bobbing slightly.

It took her a second to realize that the dragon was _laughing _at her. She narrowed her eyes, realizing that his disgust had been a mere joke, and turned away. She grabbed her rucksack and pulled its straps over her shoulders, proceeding to the small kitchen in the home.

Ingrid was there already, dark circles under her eyes. "Never will I drink again," she told her daughter as the girl walked in.

Archayne laughed. "I'm sure, mother," she replied, sitting at the table. Shenkuu slithered off her arm to sit on the table. "Be careful while I'm gone," she cautioned the older woman. "I'll do what I can to send help back!"

A shadow passed over Ingrid's brow. She knew this moment would eventually arrive, had known since her daughter had returned with a dragon hatchling on her shoulder. She had tried to prepare herself for her daughter's departure, but had failed. Her voice shook as she responded to her daughter. "Once moment, my dear," she told Archayne as she set down a bowl of soup before the girl.

Archayne's eyes followed her mother with her curiosity. She knew the older woman would return, and began to eat. Shenkuu caught the scent of a mouse and jumped down to the floor. He sent an image of himself eating it to Archayne to tell her what he would be doing, and the girl nodded.

Ingrid returned with an oblong object wrapped in cloth. "This was your father's," she told the girl as she pulled back strips of the cloth. A long, thin sword was revealed. It was old, as could be seen from the scuffed leather hilt. Archayne stood and took the blade, sliding it out of its sheath. The metal was clean, despite its age, and then edges were sharp. A soft burp emanated from behind them: Shenkuu had eaten his mouse. Victorious content emanated from him, lifting Archayne's own sprits.

"Thank you, mother," Archayne murmured, returning the blade to its sheath, her voice thick with tears. She took the blade, and with her mother's helped, fastened the thing and its belt around her waist. The blade felt heavy on her hip. "This will take some getting used to," she told her mother with a playful smile.

Ingrid waved her daughter off. "Off with you, or they'll leave without you!" She paused and stepped up to her daughter to wrap her in a last embrace. "May luck be with you," she murmured.

"And you," Archayne replied, returning her mother's embrace.

Shenkuu, sensing Archayne's emotions, flitted up to land on the blonde girl's hair. He touched his muzzle to her mother's head, replying in kind, _And you._

Ingrid pulled away, smiling at the two, and nodded.

Archayne straightened her spine, pulling her shoulders back as she lifted her chin, and turned on her heal. She and Shenkuu left Ingrid's doorstep forever.

Shenkuu reached the hill before his Rider did, his purple scales flashing in the morning light. The three egg carriers looked up at the sound of his squeaks and growls. The elf smiled softly, murmuring a greeting in the Ancient Language.

Shenkuu returned the greeting. He landed heavily in the grass, clearly tired from flying.

A huffing and red-cheeked Archayne appeared soon after, pausing to rest her hands on her knees. "I apologize if I'm late!" she told the three people before her. "I'm not used to carrying so much."

"Worry not," the dwarf replied cheerfully, "Your escort has not arrived yet."

"Escort?" Archayne squeaked as she reached down to pick up Shenkuu, transferring him to her shoulder.

Her squeak was drowned out, though, by the loud sound of beating wings. She looked up, only to stumble back in mingled fear and shock. A huge, red dragon seemed to be falling from the sky, landing with a thud that shook them all. A human Rider slipped off its back. "Hello there," he waved to the small group around him. "I'm here to deliver!"

The elf seemed to roll his eyes, but nodded towards the girl. "You will be taking her to.. Wherever you train."

The human turned to the girl, his eyes rising as he noticed the unusual shape and color of her eyes. "Well, you're different," he noted, the shrugged. "I'm guessing that there is your dragon?" he inquired as he stretched his hand out to help her climb up onto the dragon.

Archayne swallowed, disconcerted by his comment, and then nodded in response to his question. "Aye, he is mine," she answered, taking his hand.

The human nodded, keeping his eyes averted as he helped the girl into the saddle. "Might I ask his name?"

The girl made sure she was comfortable before responding. "Shenkuu."

"Aye, that is different, too. You're an unusual one, aren't you?" he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

Archayne shrugged, glancing down towards the egg carriers below. The elf, aware of her gaze, nodded to her. The dwarf waved. The human flashed Archayne an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about that guy," she called, motioning to the Rider that clambered onto his dragon. "Andreus is annoying, but he means well!"

Andreus, as he was apparently named, grunted in response and threw the human on the ground a furtive glare. He swung into the saddle, saluting the three on the ground. "I'll see you three next time!" he cried. Suddenly, the ground was falling away.

Archayne squeaked, clutching to the man's back, her frantic eyes wide. Shenkuu had curled around her neck securely, a bit like a scarf. After a rough ascent, the red dragon leveled out. Archayne gasped, not having realized that she was holding her breath. "Do dragons always do that?" she half-whispered.

Smugness came in answer from Sheknuu.

Andreus turned slightly to the side, his eyebrow rising. "You say something?"

"I said," Archayne repeated, raising her voice, "Do dragons always do that?"

Andreus laughed in response, shaking his head. "Lanidor just decided it would be fun to scare ye. Don't worry!"

Archayne flushed with anger, and then shook her head. This wasn't something to get worked up over. Instead, she focused on communicating her thoughts to Shenkuu. He responded, most often, with sarcasm. He seemed like an ornery dragon, yet at times he was perfectly friendly and warm. Of course, those times were rare.

The red dragon, Lanidor, flew on, bearing his rider and the accompanying girl with ease. He was ten years old, having been one of the first eggs to hatch for the new Riders. He was strong, and was able to make the full flight across the desert within three days. His training was specialized in long-distance flights, so for him, it wasn't all that much of a hassle. Except for the fact that every few hours, the humans on his back had to perform certain bodily functions that required him to land. Though he was prepared for it, it annoyed him nevertheless, and so it was on purpose that when they finally arrived at the new training grounds, he landed with a jarring jolt, nearly sending the thin girl flying off his back.

Archayne was all but dozing when they landed. A jolt the magnitude of an earthquake, or so it felt, made her yelp in terror, her lack of grip almost making her tumble to the ground some twenty feet below. Still, she was able to just in time clutch the back of Andreus's shirt.

The Rider laughed, climbing down after he saved his shirt from her hands. "We'll take fewer bathroom breaks next time, Lanidor! I promise!" He landed lightly on the ground and then helped Archayne down, patting Lanidor's side. A moment of silence passed, in which the two discussed the next move. Lanidor turned and lumbered off, no doubt to find food.

Archayne, in the meantime, was speechless. They stood in a clearing skirted by the thickest trees she had ever seen. Windows were in the trunks, and there were doorways placed in the roots of each tree.

"Aye, the elves know their singing," Andreus remarked, noticing the girl's expression.

She barely heard him.

The Rider allowed her to dawdle for but a moment before grabbing her by the elbow, leading her on a path boarded with dark blue flowers. "Come on, you'll have time to gaze later."

She nodded meekly, her wide eyes still flicking from place to place in wonder.

Andreus led her through the forest-like city, stopping at a gate formed from the branches of a dogwood tree. The Rider murmured a few words in the Ancient Language, and the gate opened with a soft sigh. It closed after them as they passed. Inside, a number of elves and humans meandered around, some in groups. Anderus lead her past them, and deep into the hall. He finally stopped at a large, official-looking door formed by the branches of a pair of gnarled olive trees. The branches appeared to form a pair of flying dragons in the center. Archayne eyed the door in wonder, unable to believe that this was possible.

A voice from inside boomed, "Enter." The doors opened.

Archayne and Andreus entered. Five seated elves greeted them with grave expressions. _I don't think _he's_ an elf, though,_ Archayne thought as she looked at the elf seated in the middle. His short dark brown hair fell over his eyes, casting shadows over a face more rugged than the faces of his companions. His jaw was too strong, his body slightly wider. In his hands, which were not as slender as those of the rest, he held a golden, light-filled object. She had no idea what it could possibly be.

Andreus, Archayne noticed, was making a strange motion, twisting his hand over his sternum. Archayne watched him, biting her lip in confusion. The elves looked at her expectantly, and realizing these must be the leaders of the Riders, Archayne dipped a curtsy. They nodded in response, and the one in the middle, evidently the head, began to speak.

"Greetings, Andreus," he began, nodding to blond Rider. "We thank you for bringing the girl here. You may leave."

The blonde Rider nodded, and departed, leaving Archayne alone.

She straightened her back, watching the elves cautiously.

"Greetings, Rider," the center elf began. "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer." Archayne's jaw almost dropped open. "Welcome to the city of the Dragon Riders, Arucane. What are your name, and your dragon's name?"

Archayne took a moment to compose herself. "My name is Archayne, and my dragon's name is Shenkuu."

Eragon nodded slowly, his dark eyes flicking towards the golden object.

One of his fellow elves suddenly said, "Your eyes… they are strange. Have you any elven blood in you?"

The girl shook her head. "None that I know of."

The golden object flashed. It was Glaedr's heart of hearts, and he was unsettled. Something was vaguely familiar in her stance, and in the way she held herself. Her voice, too, struck chords in his memory. He could not place where, though. All he could think of was that he had not seen that bearing in many a year.

"Glaedr wishes to ask…" Eragon continued, the shadow of confusion passing over his face. Archayne noted quickly that he was also more likely to display his emotions than his companions were. "If you have any notable… ancestors?"

Archayne stiffened, trying to decide whether to answer. Shenkuu lifted his head to look at her, surprised that he suddenly could not hear the flow of her thoughts. Her jaw worked for a moment, then she shook her head. "I have none."

That's when Glaedr suddenly remembered. Images flashed through his mind: a young man standing before the council, the same man but older begging the council for a new dragon, and finally that man atop a giant black dragon. Gravely, he translated those images to the open minds of Eragon, Shenkuu and the elves. Their reaction was immediate.

The elves' expressions changed drastically: shock, anger and an almost-fear mingled across their faces. Shenkuu sprinted away from the girl, hissing as he hid behind a leg of Eragon's chair.

"You,"Eragon growled. His voice was hard, threatening, unforgiving. "You are the descendant of Galbatorix!? And you _dared_ to _lie_ about it?"


	5. Chapter 4

"Take her to the grotto!" Eragon yelled after a moment of silence. A pair of elves entered, throwing Archayne curious looks. When Eragon provided no information, they dragged the struggling girl away.

"No, please!" she cried, but to no avail. The council's ears were deaf to her voice, as were Shenkuu's.

Silence ensued.

"That was… brash," one of the elves commented coolly.

Eragon sighed deeply, nodding. "I know," he replied, frowning to himself. "I just…" he began, but never finished the sentence. Glaedr's emotions had washed over him in that moment and he had lost control. "I'm only human," he finally stated with a wry smile. The old dragon's emotional wounds were still sore, and Galbatorix's betrayal was too recent to the dragon. Eragon, being of weaker self-control than the far older elves, reacted with the least thought.

"We can scold him for his loss of control later," came the hoarse voice of Rhunön, "We must decide if she is to be trusted first."

The silver-haired elf on the far left shrugged. "We have but looked upon her once."

The silence stretched as the council pondered upon the subject. Finally, Eragon stated, "We will give her a chance. There was a time when my half-brother was not trusted because of his parentage, even though he would do no harm…" he paused, remembering how the Varden would not trust Murtagh, despite his good intentions. "We cannot judge Archayne for hers."

"Well spoken, Eragon," the elf to his right stated. "She will be given a chance."

The rest of the elves nodded their agreement. "Now, go apologize," Rhunön ordered the boy, earning herself well-suppressed scowls from the other elves. She had not lost her rough way of speech in all the years she had lived, and she still received disapproving looks from the other elves from her frank and bossy attitude.

"I guess I should," he sighed, standing up. He stretched, and then proceeded out of the hall. He followed an obscure path that began right at the main gate. _You really should think before you act_, Saphira prodded his mind, clearly amused.

_I know, _Eragon replied, _Everything is just... too recent in Glaedr's mind. You know how much he thinks about it. _

_Yes, but he doesn't control you, Eragon,_ she rebuked him.

Eragon didn't respond, and Saphira rolled her eyes at him. By that time, Eragon had arrived at the entrance to the underground caverns, named the grotto, which were reserved for any wrongdoers. He knew exactly where the girl would be, seeing as she was the only one there.

Archayne looked up sharply as the thick door opened, her eyes wide with apprehension. _Oh, I hope they give me a chance!_ She prayed silently, _I should have just told them! _

"Archayne?" Eragon asked softly, stepping inside.

"Yes?" the girl murmured in reply.

"I... apologize for my rashness," he began.

"I apologize for not telling you! I should have-!" she interrupted, only to be silenced by a hard look from Eragon.

"As I was saying," he continued, "I was wrong to judge you upon lineage. I should have been the last to do so. The council has decided that we will accept you."

His words were all that she had hoped for. A hopeful smile played over her lips. "Thank you," she whispered.

Eragon smiled softly in return, nodding. "Just... don't repeat his mistakes. It would be bad for all of us," he warned as he turned around. He hoped she wouldn't be too offended by his words, counting it prudent to remind her then and there of what Galbatorix had done in his time.

"I won't!" Archayne swore, nodding with resolution as she followed him.

Eragon slowed down until she fell into step beside him, then began to introduce her to the city. "This city is where we train. The tree-buildings that you saw when you first walked through here were the classrooms. There are also several training buildings- specifically for sparring. Several of those living here are not Riders, and they inhabit a line of trees just beyond the training ones. Beyond that lie the largest trees. There, we house our riders." Eragon paused, and then turned down onto the path from which he had come.

"Where are we going?" Archayne inquired, attempting to commit to memory the paths.

"'I'm taking you back to the Council Hall," he replied. "Once you and Shenkuu are together, you will be taken to your lodging. I believe you will have a roommate."

Archayne stopped stock still. "Roommate?"

Eragon glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow. "Aye, a roommate," he replied. "You will have to cooperate with the others. What better way to start?" The conversation ended there as Eragon switched to the topic of paths. He explained the color coded flower beds that ran beside all the paths, each path denoting the destination, making sure she memorized each one.

By the time they arrived at the doors to the Council's chamber, Archayne knew each color by heart. The girl lifted her violet eyes from the ground to glance cautiously at the elves. Their expressions were inscrutable. Finally, an elf spoke. "Now where did that little purple critter go?" she asked the room, her voice unexpectedly gravelly. Her words were a clear joke, which both Eragon and Archayne understood, but the other elves threw her disapproving glances.

Rhunön smiled dryly and glanced behind her chair, her eyes crinkling. "There you are," she exclaimed, nodding to Shenkuu. "Come out, now!"

Shenkuu crawled out from behind Rhunön's chair, his eyes narrowed at Archayne. He watched her for a moment, and then hissed.

Archayne looked at him with pleading eyes, and slowly lowered herself to her knees as a sign of submission to the small dragon.

Shenkuu understood her motion and inched towards her, only to stop a foot away. _You told me not,_ he stated. His tone was cold, guarded.

_I know, _Archayne replied, _I'm sorry… I should have told you. You, I should have told first. _When Shenkuu made no move to reply, she continued, _Please forgive me, Shenkuu. If it means a thing to you, I'll not lie to you again. And… I will no repeat _his_ mistakes. _She took a shuddering breath as she finished her silent promises to the dragon, hoping he would accept her apology, hoping he would see that she meant what she promised. It was not her wish to repeat the things he did, despite her jealousy for the riches the king had amassed over the years. That jealousy was quickly ended when she saw the wonders of this new city. He would have been jealous to see all this beauty in one place, she thought.

After a moment, Shenkuu nodded and jumped onto her knees. _Apology accepted_. His tone had become warmer. Easily, he scampered onto her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. Archayne smiled broadly at him.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but the council has other matters to attend to," one of the councilmen stated after a while. "An elf will escort you to your dormitory."

Archayne stood quickly, nodding. "Aye, my apologies."

She turned, and finding that the door to the chamber was open, left the council room. An elf immediately fell into step beside her, murmuring, "I will lead you." She followed the silver-haired elf through the trees, following the colorful paths, quietly conversing with Shenkuu.

The elf stopped after fifteen minutes in front of a willow tree that overlooked a small lake. Similar trees stood beside it. Two cavernous openings appeared on the left side of the tree. "You will be in the top room," the elf stated as he left. "Good bye."

She turned to ask a question, but he had already departed. Shrugging, she entered through the clearly defined door and ascended the steps. She came into a small sitting room. A sign with an elegant "1" appeared on the wall, so she with a huff ascended the second, longer staircase. She stopped there and entered the sitting room. Two doors were before her. One, as she soon found out, led to a depression in the wooden floor. The other was a bedroom. A desk and bookcase took up the left side of the room, and to the right was a bed. In the middle was a basin-like depression filled with pillows and blankets, like an oversized pet bed. What transfixed Archayne's attention, though, was the view through the gaping hole that took up almost the entire center wall: through it, she could see the lake. The sun was setting now, and its vibrant red-orange hues were reflected beautifully on the water. A flock of small birds rose from the treetops and flew off, casting their small, rippling shadows in the water. She walked closer to the edge of the room, a smile brimming with wonder lighting her features. "Beautiful," she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from the painting-perfect scene before her.

"Aye, and who are you?" a clearly masculine voice suddenly cut in behind her.

Startled, she spun around, trying to see who the source of that voice was. She was too close to the edge, though, and she could feel her balance slip and her weight tip backwards.

/Author's Note: thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I appreciate them so much! My sincere apologies for any errors.


	6. Chapter 5

Archayne was convinced she would die then and there, but to her shock, arms pulled her back. "Stay away from the edge," the same voice told her, roughly pulling her to a spot several meters away from the ledge.

Archayne turned to face her savior. It was an elf, she guessed. His raven-colored hair fell down to below his strong shoulders, and his slanted eyes watched her closely. After making that strange gesture that Andreus had made before, he touched two of his fingers to the corners of his lips. "So," he asked softly, "Who are you, again?" His face held an innocent curiosity that seemed almost child-like.

"I'm… Archayne," the girl murmured after she managed to get over her amazement at the elf's appearance. Something about his deep blue eyes mesmerized her. "And you?"

The elf nodded in response. "Dûrion is my name, of the House of Haldthin." Had the girl known her elven history, she would, of course, recognize the house, and who else belonged to it. She didn't, however, and would discover that fact later.

"A pleasure," she replied with a small smile, and a dip of a curtsy. "Could I… ask a question?"

The young elf smiled mischievously. "I believe you just did… but you may."

Archayne's smile widened with amusement. "What is that… motion you make? That looks like this?" she asked as she attempted to mimic the twisting of the hand over the sternum that she had seen him do.

Dûrion laughed in response. "'Tis but a sign of respect!" he replied easily. "I assume you are ignorant of our ways?"

Archayne blushed, feeling quite the lack-wit girl, but nodded. "Aye."

"Step away from the ledge, Archayne," he told her, "and let us proceeds to the sitting room so I may introduce you to the basest rules of our etiquette."

Archayne threw him a look, but followed him into the small sitting room, where a table stood, accompanied by two chairs. He took his seat in the chair farthest from the door, and motioned for Archayne to sit in the one across from him. Carefully, she sat on the chair.

Dûrion looked at her for a moment, and then began. "Your masters will, no doubt, instruct you on the details, so I will present you with but the basics. This," he paused to repeat the curious twisting gesture over his sternum "is, as I said before, a show of respect. Placing your fingers at the corners of your lips like this," he made the motion, "signifies that the words from our conversation will remain words between us."

Archayne nodded, quickly committing his words to memory.

Dûrion continued. "Following the gestures, we greet one another with an excerpt from an old blessing, of which you will learn in your studies. As an elf, I am already educated in the history of the races." He smiled smugly, pausing before continuing. "The greeting is thus: 'Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarínya ono varda'. Each person speaks one line." Expectantly, he focused his dark blue gaze on her.

Archayne repeated the words, only to have Dûrion jump in to correct her pronunciation. It was in the midst of this training that a golden dragon slithered into the room, its scales shimmering in the late afternoon light. Its eyes were focused on Dûrion, who nodded curtly in acknowledgement. Something passed between them.

Shenkuu, unfamiliar with the dragon and already disgruntled by the day's events, sprang to his feet: his spine arched, and he let out a soft hiss that was something slightly more than a growl.

The golden dragon's eyes flicked to meet the violet dragon's narrowed ones. It showed no outward signs of malevolence, and instead blinked at Shenkuu warmly. His eyes narrowed further with suspicion, but his half-growl subsided. The golden dragon took a dainty step forward, tilting its head to the side to further examine the other dragon. It let out a greeting growl that was half a purr.

"I see your… Shenkuu… has met my Delora," Dûrion commented as he turned his gaze to the two dragons, who were tentatively beginning to sniff at one another. Curiosity came from both dragons.

Archayne paused in the midst of her last repetition of the last line of the greeting, and glanced toward the two dragons. "Delora?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"My dragon," Dûrion responded, rolling his eyes. "Her name is Delora."

Archayne nodded, biting her lip in embarrassment. _I sure am slow today… _

Shenkuu's thoughts popped into her own. _When are you ever quick-witted? _

Archayne turned to look down at the dragon, narrowing her eyes at him. She stuck her tongue out at him, huffing as he began to laugh in his hiccupping manner. Amusement echoed into her mind, making her own lips twitch with amusement. _Be nice, Shenkuu! _

The dragon rolled his eyes at her, and then turned back to the golden dragon, whom he now knew as Delora.

"Let them be," Durian said after a while. "Nourishment will be brought soon… I suggest we head to bed. Your training begins tomorrow."

Archayne nodded, stifling a tired yawn. She glanced around, only now noticing that the light was dwindling quickly. "They bring food to us?" she asked in surprise at his words, her eyes widening. She was used to having to make it on her own, or having to help Ingrid with it. Never had she imagined that someone would _actually _make food for her, and bring it to her, as if she was some kind of royalty! After a moment, she added, "Is it good?"

Durion's eyebrows rose, an offended expression flitting across his features. "The elves cook… It is of the highest quality! Of course it is… good!" he replied, stuttering slightly, as if the idea of the elven cooks failing to cook well rendered him speechless. "We are the Riders, future defenders of justice, so of course they bring us our food." Despite his apparent maturity, he had an arrogant streak.

Archayne nodded, amazement still running through her thoughts.

_You are truly shocked by the smallest of things, _Shenkuu told her as he turned away from Delora, and scrabbled up the chair to rest on its back.

_But it's so amazing! So kind of them to bring the food all the way here! The kitchens must be far from here! _Archayne responded, a star-struck smile crossing her lips.

_Calm down, or your heart will fail you_, Shenkuu warned her dryly.

Archayne ignored him.

"I will be returning to my own rooms with Delora now," the elf stated, standing from his seat. After stretching quickly, he stepped to the window and glanced out. "The food will be here momentarily." He turned on his heels then, and left the room. The soft scuff of his leather shoes against wood was the only sound that told Archayne that he was, indeed, descending the stairs. "Good night," she heard him call as an afterthought.

"Good night!" she called back, watching Delora follow her Rider. She flicked her tail as a show of adieu.

As Dûrion had predicted, an elf soon appeared at the top of the stairs with a tray in his hands. With a friendly smile to Archayne, he set the tray down on the table and promptly left. Archayne waited for him to leave, and then looked over the tray. There lay a soup of some sort, several seed cakes, a bowl of berries, and a flask of water. Shenkuu scampered to sniff the tray, only to wrinkle his nose.

_No meat,_ he notified Archayne. _I'll be hunting_, he told her as he shuffled his wings. Before the girl could say or think a thing, he had taken off through the open window. She rolled her eyes and looked over the tray.

None of it looked especially appetizing. Archayne had grown up eating a diet that contained meat at almost all times, regardless of what kind. This array of vegetables, she could tell, would leave her hungry. She shrugged though, saying to herself, _They wouldn't give us this if it wasn't suitable. _She lifted the spoon and swallowed a spoonful of the soup tentatively. To her surprise, it was delicious. She had no idea what was in it, having little to no knowledge of herbs beyond those which can be found in a small prairie. She wolfed down the soup and picked up one of the seed cakes with curiosity in her eyes. She took a small bite, and the sweet taste of berry jam filled her mouth. A blissful smile passed over her face. The berries reminded her of childhood summers past, of running over that hill beside her home city. She allowed herself a small laugh before finishing the cake. _If all the food is like this, I can get used to it, _she decided as she examined a second seed cake. She ate the rest quickly, the seemingly exotic flavors sending her into little moments of bliss. To any of those who were born to money, these cakes would be an everyday nuisance, but to Archayne, they were a wonder. Her life made her cherish the tiniest of things, including seed cakes with jam filling.

When Shenkuu returned from his hunt, he found Archayne lying on the bed, her eyes watching the new dark sky. Every once in a while, her hand would dart out from beneath the covers to take a berry from a bowl that lay beside her head and would pop it in between her lips.

_You seem content_, Shenkuu's thoughts whispered to the sleepy girl.

She smiled briefly. _Perhaps their meat-lacking diet is not as bad as I thought, _she answered. The sensation the seed cake had brought danced through her mind, and a soft, happy sigh escaped her lips. Within minutes, Rider and dragon fell asleep.

Hours later, as the sun was preparing to rise and awaken the sleeping population, a hard pounding against her mind made Archayne spring upright. Fear engulfed her as the sensation of something encompassing her mind grew. Again, a pounding, like a hard knocking, and suddenly the weak walls of her mind, supported by Shenkuu, shattered. The dragon growled.

_Calm thyself, Dragon, _a deep, rich tone commanded. Something about the entity, unfamiliar to both, made Shenkuu become calm. _Archayne, you will follow a path. I will meet you here_, images flashed through her mind. She could see a pathway, then a turn, and finally, as the entity said "here," an outcropping of rock, about 20 meters wide, and 25 long. The sun was just beginning to rise. _Please wash. _With those words, the entity withdrew, leaving both to their alarmed minds.

"Who was that? _What_ was that!?" Archayne squeaked, looking over at Shenkuu.

_Perhaps, the elf, or whomever it is, who will train us. Perhaps, it was a teacher, _the dragon suggested.

_I hope,_ Archayne sighed, shivering at the experience. She forced a smile, though, clapping once with false cheer. "First day today!" she crowed, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She wandered into the sitting room, searching for her rucksack. Finding it, she retrieved her brush and soap. "Now to find the washing place…" she murmured to herself. The thin girl searched through all the rooms, but could find no place to wash. Finally, she stopped at the door that hid from her sight the depression in the floor. _It's got to be this one, right?_ She asked herself, and then shrugged. She opened the door and stepped into the room, her toes inches from the rim of the depression, which rose an inch above the rest of the floor. Presumably, it was there to prevent water from flowing out. Shenkuu slithered in after his Rider, curiously nosing about. A shadowed dent in the wall caught his attention, and he went nosing for it. Suddenly, water gushed into the depression, steam curling off the surface.

_There's your bath, _Shenkuu stated brightly before he sprinted out of the room.

Archayne tittered softly, and quickly undressed herself. She slid into the hot water, wincing at the heat. The pain woke her up, and soon she was used to it. She quickly washed her hair out and scrubbed her body. Somewhere in a distant part of her mind, she could sense that Shenkuu was eating something, and her own stomach grumbled hungrily, urging her to finish her bathing. With a soft sigh, she rinsed the suds off her skin and stood. The water drained away as she toweled herself dry and wrapped the towel around herself. She picked up her dirty clothing and bathing items, and stepped into the sitting room. On the table lay a small tray with food similar to that of the night before, and also a small bundle. The blonde walked over to the table and traded the things in her hands for the small bundle. Something was written on it, but she could not read the fluid script. Instead, she took the bundle to her room.

Archayne opened the carefully wrapped package on her bed, gasping at the contents: a pair of plain leggings, and a tunic. Though by the elves' standards, this was nowhere near the height of quality, by her standards it was the epitome of perfect cloth. Smiling giddily, she dressed herself in the smooth garments, somewhat disconcerted by the masculinity of the outfit.

_ This is the daily wear of the elves,_ Shenkuu informed her, following her thoughts. _Dresses are not practical in training. _

_I guess not, _she mused, imagining herself twirling with a sword, slicing at some enemy. _It would look charming, though. _

_ Unless you tangle yourself with the skirts and trip, _Shenkuu laughed.

Archayne reentered the sitting room with a laugh. _We should probably get going_, she sighed as she stuffed a small seed cake in her mouth.

Shenkuu nodded in reply. He leaped of the table and landed on her shoulder as she passed the table. As Archayne walked, she pulled her hair back and with dexterous fingers braided her tresses, fastening the end of the plait with a short length of twine. She skipped down the stairwell and exited the tree-building, her violet eyes immediately dropping to the sides of the path before her as she began to follow it.

_Left here, right? _She asked Shenkuu. His directions and corrections helped her to follow the path the teacher had outlined.

The purple dragon inclined his head, and the girl turned. Before her rose an outcropping of gray rock. The sun was just rising behind it as Archayne made her way up the stone, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

An elf stood at the end of the outcropping, surrounded by a group of seven young males and females. Each was accompanied by his or her dragon, whose sizes varied from only about a foot, to a meter in length. They all turned to face the approaching blonde girl. The teacher's brows rose. "You are Archayne, yes?"

Archayne nodded in response. "Aye."

"You are late," the teacher stated, and then after a pause added, "Students, form a circle."

The 8 youths did as they were told gathering in a loose circle around their instructor.

"My name," he began, "is Ikaru. You will call me Master Ikaru, or simply Ikaru. I will teach you the Rimgar, and the art of sword play. Now, all of you introduce yourselves so we may know who we are crossing swords with."

The human boy directly behind him, with stormy gray eyes, quickly introduced himself. "I am Prin," he stated, flicking his thick black locks back with his hand.

The boy beside him smirked, his sea-blue eyes sparking with arrogance. "You can call me Ranec."

The girl that stood next to Ranec was an elf. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer in the rising sun's light, starkly white against her raven tresses. Her piercing blue eyes were focused on Master Ikaru as she introduced herself as Marina.

The silver-haired male elf with forest green eyes beside him was Amomi. A human girl with well-developed arm muscles and short, dark brown curls was named Karen. The tall, gangly boy beside her with sandy brown hair and brown eyes was named Namid. The last boy was familiar to Archayne: raven locks and dark blue, slanted eyes. A slight smirk rested on his lips.

"Dûrion," he stated simply, with none of his expression's cockiness tainting his voice.

Archayne remained silent, not realizing that the rest of the class was waiting for her to introduce herself. Only at a pointed cough from Master Ikaru did she jolt out of a stunned reverie: Dûrion was in her class! Flushing, she managed to mutter, "My name is Archayne." She lowered her gaze, embarrassed.

Master Ikaru rolled his eyes and began to explain the first level of Rimgar, including skillful demonstrations of each pose. Once he finished, he clapped his hands and with a cheerful smile crowed, "To work! Position one!"

And the Riders-to-be groaned together, their bodies inflexible from sleep.

That night, Archayne returned to her bed with a sore body. The Rimgar stretched her near-nonexistent flexibility to its limits, the swordplay exercises left her arms sore from holding the heavy sword, her shoulder ached from archery practice, and her head pounded from trying to memorize words of the Ancient Language.

Shenkuu laughed in his strange manner at her, poking her sore shoulder with his muzzle as he chuckled, _And that was just the first day, weakling_.

Archayne grunted tiredly, her mind struggling with a dilemma: in their History class, they had reviewed the current people of power- Eragon, Vanir, Arya… "Vanir Haldthin," she murmured to herself, unsure why that name struck familiar chords in her mind. "Where had I heard that before?"

Then it hit her. In her mind, she saw Dûrion, sitting in that chair from the night before, introducing himself in his soft voice. "Dûrion is my name, of the House of Haldthin," he had told her. That was it! She shook herself, rubbing her eyes. There was no other option! It had to be true!

Dûrion was a relative of Vanir, the ambassador of the elves!


	7. Chapter 6

Shenkuu grew quickly, and within two weeks his size tripled. He was as tall as Archayne now, more agile and stronger. Nature, or perhaps his ancestry, or perhaps both, had gifted him with a keen mind and deadly agility. He was thinner than the other male dragons, but lither. He could twist himself in ways the rest could only dream of, prancing from place to place with the grace of a dragonfly. He was not strong, though. The other dragons could easily overpower him in a battle of brute strength, but battles are rarely reliant solely on strength. Besides, he could gain their bulk through training, something he was intent on doing.

Archayne's progress was not as stellar. Her memory was poor, and she constantly found herself digging through scribbled notes to remember some fact from a lecture the day before. The one thing she was good at was critical thinking. No matter what hypothetical situation was thrown at her, she could always find a way out. Her solutions were usually different from those of the others, and often took the Logic master by surprise. Her body fared better under training than her mind did; after just weeks, she became far more flexible, and stronger. She could now hold her sword with ease, and swinging was no longer something she did with difficulty. Her balance was excellent, thanks to years spent carrying water on her back.

The first two weeks of their class with Master Ikaru were all about teaching the students how to hold the sword, how to balance with it. They practiced swinging just to test their strength, but nothing more. Now, they were finally moving on to actually wielding one.

Archayne woke that morning feeling unusually refreshed. Her body buzzed with energy, and she rushed through cleaning and eating. _Master Ikaru promised to begin teaching us to spar today!_ She told Shenkuu excitedly as the pair descended the steps.

Shenkuu was equally excited. _Master Tulvir said he would take us out to train among the clouds!_ He replied. The dragon had a penchant for being high in the sky, for being able to see the world beneath him. The clouds were as natural to him as the water was to a fish.

Master Tulvir was a huge dragon with scales that shone like emeralds. He was, in fact, Master Ikaru's partner. He was strict, and effluent. He indulged in diatribes over wrongdoings, and his lectures tended to meander through the world of subjects related to his lecture. All of which put Archayne to sleep. Shenkuu, on the other hand, drank in all the information with surprising curiosity. Tulvir had once commented how unlikely the pair was: Shenkuu's natural intelligence seemed to clash with Archayne's lack of it.

"You are full of energy this morning," a voice said behind Archayne and Shenkuu, making the former jump. Dûrion's steps were ridiculously quiet, or at least the girl thought them so.

Archayne nodded once her surprise faded, laughing slightly. "I guess they put something in the food last night!" she suggests.

Dûrion only laughed, shaking his head.

Side by side, they made their way to Ikaru's class. They were the last to arrive, as always. Ikaru's brows twitched upward as he watched them approach, but he made no comment. As soon as the pair was within earshot, he began to speak. "Today, you will begin the practice with your swords. Go, retrieve them."

The class, murmuring amongst themselves excitedly, went over to the bin where the dulled swords were stored. One by one, they returned to the one file line they stood in at the beginning of each class. Expectantly, they looked at Ikaru, whose eyebrows promptly rose. "Will you be fighting yourselves?" he sighed, then barked, "Partner up!"

The group rushed about, friends' eyes meeting. The last two standing were Archayne and Amomi. His green eyes met her violet ones, and he lifted his eyebrows inquisitively. She nodded, walking over to him. "I guess we're partners then," she murmured.

He nodded, shrugging his thin shoulders lightly.

Amomi and Archayne were the two outcasts of the group: quiet and reserved, they stood out from their boisterous companions. Prin and Ranec were the two leaders, despite their relative lack of skill in both the Rimgar and swordplay. Marina and Dûrion were the most skilled of the group, something that surprised no one. Unsurprisingly, they were an immediate pair for this exercise. Ranec was paired with Namid, and Prin was against Karen.

Ikaru examined the pairs, and then nodded decisively. "This will do," he commented, then introduced them to a long list of moves. After he introduced one, he made the pairs execute the move. Everyone except Dûrion and Marina struggled, since all this was new to them. Even the elves, unfamiliar with the slashing swords, seemed less graceful than usual.

Archayne sighed slightly as they completed the last move. As Master Ikaru had instructed, she slowly stabbed at Amomi, who blocked the thrust in exactly the manner Ikaru had pointed out.

"Good," the Master yelled. "Now, let's see what you can do. Begin!" He motioned for them to begin.

Amomi and Archayne faced each other then settled into their ready poses. Their steely gazes met, and for a moment they were frozen. They heard nothing, but the sound of their breathing and their beating hearts. They saw nothing but each other. Then Archayne swung at Amomi's ribs. He reacted quickly, blocking the blow with the flat of his blade, and reacted with a jab at the girl's shoulder. She parried the blow, surprised by his strength. _He's an elf_, she reminded herself; _he's stronger than a human… and he's not about to soften his blows for me. _She was still used to the human tendency to soften everything for females. The Riders, after the fashion of the elves, frowned on this practice, and promoted gender equality.

Archayne pulled her thoughts back to the field, and sent a stab at Amomi's hip. At the last moment, she tried to change the swords direction, but she wasn't strong enough yet. Instead, the sword cut a path toward Amomi's stomach. The elf's eyes widened and he twisted out of the way, trying frantically to block the blow. He managed to evade it. Something flashed in his eyes as Archayne's sword met the grass. She was distracted, and Amomi took advantage of the opening. He lifted his sword and swung it at her exposed back. The girl looked up, surprise evident in her features. She leapt for her sword with a cry and, grasping it in her hands as she fell clumsily on her back, blocked the blow just in time. She exhaled sharply and scrambled to her feet. She swung carelessly back at the elf opposite her with a grunt, but he easily flicked his sword up to block the blow, and quickly lunged forward. The tip of the dull sword hit Archayne's hip, causing her to pause for just a moment. Gasping for a breath, she answered Amomi's thrust with a lunge of her own. Easily, Amomi parried the stab. The edge of his sword slipped along the edge of hers. He then suddenly wrenched his sword around Archayne's, forcing her to let the blade drop from her fingers- the pain in her wrist was excruciating. Before she could retrieve the sword, cold metal touched her collarbone.

"I win," he stated in an emotionless voice, his cheeks flushed slightly.

Archayne nodded, and retrieved her sword. Then their sword dance began again until, at last, Ikaru's orders sent them running to their next class.

Archayne hurried down the path to her history class, Shenkuu by her side. The pair jostled through a current of other rookie Riders, doing their best to keep track of where they were. The girl's eyes were glued to the flower path, making sure they were following the correct color.

_Watch out, _came the warning thought from Shenkuu.

But too late; she ran right into the person.

_Told you, _came Shenkuu's bemused voice.

Shrugging the dragon off, Archayne lifted her gaze, quickly muttering, "Sorry, I'm so sorry!" The words stopped between her lips; there stood Dûrion, gazing down at her with a haughty expression.

"Watch it," he growled, glowering down at her as he shouldered his way past her. Delora glided after him, gracefully waving her tail to Archayne and Shenkuu.

_Delora says he's in a mood,_ Shenkuu informed the blonde girl carelessly.

_I thought elves were very well-mannered,_ Archayne mused as she started down the path again. She glanced up every few steps to make sure she wasn't about to crash into someone. She would prefer to avoid another crash.

_And I thought humans were pleasant and not smelly,_ Shenkuu replied, _I guess we were both wrong. _

Archayne tore her gaze from the path and stuck her tongue out at Shenkuu, rolling her eyes. _What did Master Ryger say we were doing today? _She asked instead, eager to change the subject.

Shenkuu shrugged the question off with a careless flick of his tail, and then took off. _Master Arrheus will be instructing us about herbs today. I better not miss that._ Sarcasm was clear in the dragon's voice. He swooped around Archayne's head, stirring the pale hairs on her head, and took off in the direction of his class.

Archayne shrugged and quickened her pace. If she kept walking so slowly, she would be late to History, and today was not a day she wanted to miss: Ryger had promised they would learn about Du Fyrn Skulblaka!

The blonde girl slid into her seat just as Ryger turned to the tall board behind him and began to write with a piece of brilliant white chalk. Archayne, quickly as she could, took out her parchment and charcoal pencil, and began scribbling down what the Master wrote and spoke.

"Du Fyrn Skulblaka, as the elves call it," he began in his sonorous voice, "was a war between the elves and the dragons." The history Master paused, his eyes drifting over the class. His gaze paused on each elf, and finally rested on Archayne. The girl had a nagging suspicion that he knew her lineage. "I must ask all of you here who are elves, to set aside your pride for today," he said finally, "For the elves committed a fatal error when their feet first touched the sandy beaches of Alagaësia." He paused again.

Finally, Amomi's soft voice came from the front of the classroom: "What was that mistake, Ebrithil?"

The Master held the elf's gaze, and then began to speak again. "The elves assumed that the dragons were but beasts, their intelligence less than that of the fair, white horses that they rode. The elves, therefore, treated them like they would the lowest of beasts. One fine day, a youth, more likely than not of your age, hunted down a dragon, and slaughtered him as if he was game. He was proud enough to present it to the others. Needless to say, the dragons were enraged. As an act of revenge, they banded together, and in return let the blood of the fool youth flow. The bloodletting did not stop there." Ryger paused again, letting his words sink in, his eyes running over each student before he finally began to speak again. "At first the elves battled only to defend themselves, but soon they were fighting to save their own skins. The skirmishes escalated to a full-fledged war, climaxing on the craggy peaks of the Stone of Broken Eggs. One day, an elf named Eragon found an abandoned egg."

Whispers ran through the class, to which Ryger reacted with an exasperated sigh. "Not _our _Eragon. Another Eragon was he, who was an elf by birth, who lived many seasons before our Eragon was born."

The class quieted, and Ryger returned to his lecture, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. "As I was saying, Eragon found an abandoned egg. No one knows why it was left behind. The young elf decided it would be a good idea to raise a friendly dragon, and so he did, and named him Bid'Daum. When the dragon was old and strong enough, the pair traveled the elven cities, and together, managed to convince the two sides to form a pact of peace. To ensure the peace, the elves and the dragons wrought a powerful spell, a spell that bound the two species together forever. This joining of species is celebrated once every century with a celebration named the Agaetí Blödhren ."

A silence stretched, broken only by the scribbling sound of twenty quills and charcoal pencils scrawling down the man's words.

Master Ryger watched the students' writing, patiently waiting for the last head to lift. He stood stone-still, wishing to pass on the lesson of forgiveness and the urge to understand that he saw in this story. When the last head popped up, Archayne's, he began to speak once again. "I want all of you to remember something. Remember that understanding and peace must not require a war," he intoned, his voice gruff and his gaze grave. "War and violence are not a solution. They are a last resort. Words can always be used to resolve a conflict, if put to use correctly." His gaze wandered over to a sundial that stood in an open corner of the room. Twenty minutes remained.

A tense silent ensued, as students waited for an assignment, and teacher considered what to assign.

Finally, Master Ryger spoke. "Tonight, you will read about the addition of humans to the treaty, and will write a report on the effects of the spell. You will also read of the Agaetí Blödhren traditions. The next celebration fast approaches and I expect each of you to arrive with something in your hands. Now, off you go." He emphasized his last words with several sharp claps of his palms, and then waved them off. "Out with you! And don't forget to push those chairs in! I'll not push in another after you lazy youths!"

The students jostled each other on their way out, their manner subdued by the lecture. Each was attached to their dragon; each was disturbed by the idea of killing one.

Archayne left the class, worrying about Master Ryger. As he spoke of forgiveness, his gaze was focused on her. She felt as if he was speaking directly to her, as if warning the class to forgive her for the wrongs of her ancestor. _How could he possibly know!?_ She wondered. The only people who knew were the council, and Eragon himself. She was sure they would keep her secret! So how could he possibly know?

_Same way Master Glaedr knew, no doubt_, Shenkuu answered her silent questions as he landed beside her, careful to not tear any flowers from the path. _By your stance, your speech, your face. _

_ Do I resemble Galbatorix so much? _Archayne asked, a frown twitching the corners of her lips downward. They couldn't be similar, she was convinced. _There are no fairths to compare me to, are there?_

Shenkuu flicked his tail noncommittally. _None that the students can easily see. I'm sure they are not simply passed around. _

With some of her fears allayed, some pep flowed into Archayne's step. A smile played on her lips as she propelled herself into a skip. _What do we have next?_

_ I have history with Master Glaedr. You have Magic Preparatory Class with Master Romera, _Shenkuu sighed. He nudged her leg with his head. _You should remember that by now, _he stated dryly.

Archayne grinned, but the smile fell as soon as Shenkuu's hard, scaled head hit her thigh/ "Ouch!" she yelped, her hand flying to rub the spot. She pointedly gave no reply. A few passing students gave her looks and she quickly ducked her head, cheeks turning red.

Amusement flowed from Shenkuu. _You have fun, _he told her, nuzzling her cheek with his muzzle. _Don't exhaust yourself too much. _

Archayne rolled her eyes and replied, _Until dinner, Shenkuu._

Archayne glanced around the path, realizing how empty it was. "Not again," she muttered as she began to run.

"Late again?" Master Romera's mocking voice greeted her as she approached the class. The class stood on the shore of the lake. A short distance from the water stood Romera's classroom and, above that, her living quarters. "Shall we send a special messenger for you, Miss Archayne?" The honorific was anything but honoring. In fact, it was insulting.

The violet-eyed girl could feel tears welling in her eyes as she dropped her bag and joined the circle of students, her head down so no one would see. She dared not look at the others, knowing Dûrion would be there, and Amomi, and Marina. _They'll be laughing at you in the morning, _a voice in the back of her head said.

"Well, now that our Miss Archayne has joined us, we shall begin class," the Master continued in a sing song voice, turning on her heel. The short woman's hair fluttered around her as she began to explain the week's activity.

Each week, Romera gave her classes an impossible task to complete individually. One week, it was to fill an ever-draining tub with water. Another week, it was to move piles of stones with their feet. The new project, Romera promised, would be interesting.

All they saw were piles of tinder, one for each of them, with a flint, a flat stone and a tan can beside each pile. Master Romera motioned to them with her ever-present smirk as she slowly turned to face her students, the light slowly falling on her sharp and hawk-like features. "You will be making me braids of ash," she ordered. "Find yourself your spots, and have at it!" She sounded as if she was about to cackle, her voice rasping ever so slightly in her throat. Romera was a sarcastic woman. She loved her students, but not one would ever know that; she showed them only her brutally snarky side, relentlessly building their defenses against the spoken word.

The students shuffled to their piles, glancing at each other helplessly. Magic Preparatory Class was something no student waited for: not a single one of them wanted to try their hand at duties that even the youngest village child knew were impossible. _What's the point?_ Archayne wondered as she struck the flint.

Each day, in addition to materials for their project, students received a word in the ancient language. Today's word was the term for "ash".

Archayne sighed, rolling her eyes. She shifted several twigs as the tinder caught fire. She looked into the flames, wondering how she could _possibly _make a braid out of ashes. She had time, she knew, since the class lasted for three hours. The pale girl twisted her braid, forming a bun, and tied it up but a thin strap of stretchy cloth she kept in her pocket. She checked the tin, hoping to find a hint, but found ashes instead. The fire, it seemed, was only to provide more ashes. With a soft sigh, she glanced around. Nearby lay a flat rock, large enough to function as a small tablet. Archayne shook some of the ashes onto the surface of the rock and began trying to shape the ash into a braid; it was the best idea she had. The practice quickly infuriated her- she always messed up the shape! Anger and frustration welled inside her stomach- this was impossible! Some part of Galbatorix must have awakened inside her, for her anger caught the attention of Romera. It was rare for a student to show such passion. In fact, it had not been seen in many a long year. So long had it been that all but the oldest of the order forgot to whom such anger belonged.

Inside the blonde girl's mind, the anger raged on, boiling through every corner, until finally it met a cool calm somewhere in the far reaches of her mind. The calm slowly melted, lending its energy to Archayne's anger. Her palm glowed softly and she aggressively whispered, "Ash braid" in the ancient language. The ash began to flow into the proper shape, the pieces solidifying as they fell into their spots. The particles gave off a warm glow, akin to the glow of dying embers as a cool summer breeze engulfs them. Archayne found herself watching, mesmerized and amazed, unable to believe what was happening. "What..?" she whispered to herself, her eyes fixed on the tablet.

As the ash finished braiding itself, black spots danced over Archayne's vision. Not only had she been holding her breath as she watched the transformation, but she also felt tired now, all of a sudden. "What just happened?" she muttered to herself as she straightened, taking a deep breath. She looked down at the braid and gingerly touched it with the tip of her index finger. To her surprise, the braid remained in its shape, though it bent slightly under the pressure. She quickly removed her finger, and the ash returned to the braid shape, just as hair would.

"What have we here?" Master Romera asked, peeking over the girl's shoulder. "Might you have perhaps done what was asked?" The hawk-like human's claw-like hands darted around Archayne and lifted the tablet. She peered down at the ash braid, surprise flitting across her features. She poked it with her finger, her eyes narrowing. "Very good," she finally uttered, sounding reluctant to admit that Archayne had done something correctly for once. Romera was harsh with everyone. It was her way of steeling them against rude remarks that might come from those who wish to harm them. She never really did realize that her words hurt, too. "You have done well, Archayne," she stated as she turned to the rest of the class, focusing her stern gaze on them.

"While the rest of you have been idly playing with your kindling, Archayne has managed to actually complete the task given to her," the magic prep Master stated, directing her words at all the other students. "And here I was thinking she would be the last complete a task… But she has proven me wrong."

Several students threw glares in Archayne's direction. They were used to hearing Romera reprimand her. They were used to laughing at her failures, yet here she was, doing better than them. Unlike them, she didn't even laugh.

With a glance at her sundial, Master Romera flashed the class a smile and cried, "Class is over! Pack up and get going!"

The students shuffled off, quickly packing their packs up as they threw looks at Archayne, and walked off. Archayne followed them, pep in her step and a proud smile on her lips.

Master Romera watched them all walk off, thoughtful. _That blonde, absent-minded girl… she was the first to succeed, _she mused, her arms crossed, chin tucked into her chest.

_Perhaps she only seems so, _the partner of her heart and mind replied, landing beside her, folding her wings carefully as she settled beside Romera.

_But Lenora, _Romera protested, _you know how rarely this happens. _

_ Appearances are not everything, Romera, you should know that, _Lenora replied, clicking her eyelids at the hawk-like woman. _The only thing that I think is strange here is how occupied Archayne was with the problem. _The black she-dragon began to clean her claws thoughtfully.

_Is it worth mentioning to the council? I will have to speak to them about this anyway, tonight,_ Romera asked, raising an eyebrow.

_Yes… I think so, _Lenora answered. _I'm not entirely sure why, but that anger must be noted. It was very…. excessive. The Council will know what to do. _

**_A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update… I've been busy (vacation, exams, swimming, yaddah yaddah) and I hit a bit of writer's block… hopefully this is alright. _**


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